The Night Shift
by zashaxander
Summary: London. 1940. Jane Rizzoli lives with her parents, sister-in-law, and baby nephew, during a war that wreaks havoc across the world. But it isn't just the war that's going to turn her life upside down...


This isn't a post ep largely because I'm so pissed at the ep that I don't want to think about, let alone try to fix, the mess (in my opinion) that we were left with. However, I do want to write Rizzles, and I feel like I haven't got a really successful R&I fic that I'm actually committed to. So, here is another attempt. And it's AU and set in WWII London… Because why not?

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Jane clattered through the kitchen, gulping down the last of her hint-of-coffee water as she called goodbye to her mother, father, and sister-in-law Lydia, who were sitting, in silence, around the table. She scuffed her shoe on the doorframe as she hurried out of the house and swore loudly. She was already late, there was no fixing it now. Still cursing, she tamed her wild dark hair into a bun and wobbled on to her bicycle, narrowly avoiding catching her skirt in the chain as she started pedalling. Her gas mask bounced against her back, her fingers ached with cold and blisters even after less than a minute outside.

She reached the hospital in record time, but still had to run to the cloakroom to get cleaned up. She wiped the sweat and dust of her face and tried (to no avail) to smudge away the mark on her neat black boots. She tied on an apron, gave her fingernails one last scrub, and dashed out to be inspected just as the sister entered her ward.

"Nurse Rizzoli, late, again," Sister Wilson said sternly. Jane held in the sharp retort which bubbled up in her throat. Five mornings running of cleaning bedpans had put her off quick witted comments, at least for the time being.

Wilson examined their hands, aprons, caps… Jane passed, somewhat to her surprise, especially considering the shoe. Wilson always seemed to find something wrong with her. She let out a sigh of relief, and could have sworn she saw a glint of amusement in the older woman's eye. But then the angry frown returned and Jane decided it must have been her imagination playing tricks on her again. She got to work, changing dressings, changing sheets, making beds, giving out medicines… She liked her job. She got paid, she was learning a skill and a trade that would be useful after the war… Maybe she would even be able to go to college if she saved up enough money… She was helping people. And she was out of the house.

She wanted to do more, though. Her brothers were both fighting, Frankie was a pilot with the RAF and Tommy was in the army. They'd both volunteered the day war broke out. When he'd left, Frankie had told Jane firmly that she was to stay at home and look after their Ma. Jane had scowled at him. He was her little brother, he had no right to tell her what to do… And they all knew she was desperate to fight. Still. It was probably good that there was someone sane around the house. Lydia was horrifically scatterbrained and could barely change a diaper on her own; Frank Sr. was… He just hadn't been the same since the first war. And Angela… Angela did her best. She was a wonderful woman. But she shouldn't have to cope with Frank and Lydia and little TJ on her own.

Jane went to make a cup of tea. Her whole body ached with tiredness; there'd been an air raid the night before and she never got any sleep in the shelter. She made a pot, enough for the three nurses she worked with, and another woman sitting at the nurses' station, a woman dressed in civilian clothes that she didn't recognise. Pretending her tea was something a lot stronger, she sat down opposite the stranger.

"Can I help you?" she asked, passing the woman a mug, wondering if she was a lost visitor.

The woman smiled. "I'm sure you will in due course."

Jane frowned, not understanding. The woman frowned too; she hadn't meant to be unclear.

"I'm Dr. Maura Isles," she explained. "I just started working here."

"Doctor?" Jane asked incredulously. "But you can hardly be older than me…"

"I'm twenty-five. I suppose it is surprising. Very few women graduated with me, and I was the youngest in my class."

"I… I'm Rizzoli. Jane," Jane remembered to say. "It's nice to meet you."

"A pleasure. Thank you for the tea."

"No problem. I'm sorry we don't have milk or sugar."

"I prefer it black anyway."

Jane raised her eyebrows. "Really?"

"It's more rejuvenating."

Jane looked down into her mug, wrinkling up her nose. "If you say so," she said, turning back up to Maura. Maura smiled.

"Why are you being nice to me?" she asked suddenly. Jane didn't understand at first, but when she thought about it she realised what Maura meant. No one else was speaking to her, even acknowledging her. They were all too busy and important…

Jane shrugged. "Why not? Why are you being nice to me?"

Maura bit her lip. "Actually, I don't know. I don't like people much."

Jane laughed. "If you don't like people, why the hell are you a doctor?"

"I… I wanted to be a pathologist. But when I knew the war was coming… I thought I should save lives if I could. They need more doctors."

Jane nodded. "You're right, they do." She managed not to voice the next question that came to mind - why would anyone ever want to be a pathologist? - and continued to assess Maura's appearance. She was young and beautiful, blonde, elegantly dressed… She was a toff, of course, but Jane didn't hold that against her. People couldn't help who their parents were.

"Where are you from?" she asked. The question felt a little uncomfortable; Jane had forced it; Maura forced an answer. Both of them would have been perfectly happy to sit in companionable silence.

"I've lived in many places. I was born in Boston, for a while I lived in Paris, I've lived in London before… My family is based in Oxford. What about you?"

"London. As you can probably tell. My dad's family came over from Italy when he was a kid. That's where I get the hair," she said, making a face as she gestured up to her wild curls.

"I like it," Maura said honestly. Jane rolled her eyes.

"I think I would kill for hair like yours," she said. Maura blushed. Jane checked the time.

"Oh, crap, I have to go. My break finished five minutes ago. Have a good day, Dr. Isles."

"Maura. And… Well, we could have lunch together, if you like."

"I'll find you in the cafeteria," Jane said warmly. She hurried out of the room; luckily no one noticed that she was late. Perhaps they were just too used to it to care any more.

The morning dragged on and on, with grumpy patients and difficult doctors and one repulsive case of projectile vomiting (though Jane had found it almost comical). She took off her apron and washed up for lunch, letting the nurses she worked with go without her. They were fine, but they still only knew each other by surnames, and Jane wasn't like the other three she usually had shifts with. They liked make-up and dresses and dancing and boys… Jane wasn't opposed to these, exactly. She just thought that there were more interesting things to talk about.

She met Maura on the stairs and was very touched at the bright smile her new friend greeted her with.

"How was your morning?" she asked. Maura looked at the floor for a moment.

"I… It was fine. They call me nurse. Not that there's anything wrong with being a nurse," she added hurriedly. "But… I am a doctor, you know."

Without thinking, Jane slid a hand over hers. "I know. Ignore them. They're jealous."

Maura didn't answer. She was too preoccupied with the hand that was now holding hers, the strong, slender, kindly hand belonging to the gorgeous woman beside her…

"Don't get your hopes up," Jane warned her as they went to collect their plates. It was some kind of meat, they couldn't decide what, boiled potatoes, watery gravy, and something green which might once have been cabbage a few hours of boiling ago. Maura gritted her teeth.

Jane wolfed down her meal with hungry enthusiasm, treating it as she treated any food. Her mother said it was because she was so tall. Maura watched, amused, picking at the plate. She felt very ungrateful not to want it when there were people starving and fighting and dying in other places in the world, people with nothing… But she knew that what you ate had a huge influence on your health and body, and there were some things she really didn't want to put inside herself.

"Cheer up," Jane told her. "On Fridays there's pudding."

Maura tried to feel happy about it as she over-chewed a tasteless, powdery potato. She forced down her meal, feeling very proud to have cleaned her plate. Jane chuckled at a joke Maura couldn't see.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just… You remind me of my brother when he was a kid, you look so proud to have finished."

Maura blushed. "I… Eating is necessary to survival," she said weakly. Jane laughed again.

"Come on. I'll give you a little tour before we have to go back to work."

Jane took her to some of the more interesting places she'd discovered in the hospital. Her favourite part was the disused psychiatric ward, a dark, desolate place with very comfortable beds (if you ignored the restraints still fixed to their frames).

"Sometimes when my shift is done I come here to sleep rather than going home. It's so quiet."

"It's wonderful," Maura breathed. Jane raised her eyebrows.

"I wouldn't have gone that far, but I'm glad you appreciate its charm."

She realised she shouldn't have been surprised at Maura's liking for the place. After all, the woman had dreamed of cutting up dead people for a living.

They went back to work; Jane saw Maura on evening rounds… And had an idea. She hurried over when she saw Maura leaving.

"Did you just move here?" she asked. Maura nodded.

"Are you doing anything for dinner? If you're on your own, I mean, my family's crazy at the best of times but there's always room for one more and my mother would love a bit of variety, especially polite variety…" she trailed off, feeling silly for asking, but Maura was grinning from ear to ear.

"I would love to have dinner with your family," she said. Jane grinned back.

"Okay. I finish in twenty minutes, do you mind waiting?"

"Not at all."

Jane watched Maura sit down and take out a huge volume; she settled to reading it, a small smile on her face. Jane left her to it, making sure all her patients were safely tucked in for the night before grabbing her things and signing herself out.

She pushed her bike along the road so they could walk together. Jane moaned with delight as she unpinned her hair, letting it shake down her back. Maura laughed. Her hair was tightly braided and wound up behind her head.

"It would take forever…" she said.

"I'll take it out for you when we get back," Jane offered. Maura gave in.

"Fine. Are you sure your mother won't mind?"

"More than sure. She's always pestering me to bring friends over, she thinks I don't socialise."

"Do you?"

Jane laughed. "No."

Maura laughed too, but she wasn't quite sure what was funny. "Me neither," she admitted. "Until now. I prefer books to people."

Jane thought about this, and the collection of murder mysteries from the public library, mostly overdue, currently residing under and around her bed. "Me too," she decided.

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A/N: Thanks for reading, more soon (depending on your response...) including the reason for the M rating! Reviews are love. X


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